Lasting Friendships
by silvermoongirl10
Summary: AU where Sherlock knew John before John went to war. I know this has been done a few times but I had this idea that just wouldn't leave me alone so I had to write it. Please R & R, this is my first Sherlock fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** I have realized that there are some typos and I am trying to spot them and fix them A.S.A.P (if you see any I have missed please let me know!) I guess that is what happens when I let my 3 year old cousin practice their typing skills on my laptop. I just couldn't say no, I think I will have to practice saying no to those puppy dog eyes! : P

Sherlock was sat in the kitchen dissecting a frog when John walked into the room looked at Sherlock and continued to the fridge when he did a double take and then stopped short and spun around to face Sherlock.

"What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like? Surely John it should be obvious to you that I am dissecting a frog" replied Sherlock matter of factly not taking his gaze from the frog.

"Yes I can see that, but did you have to do it on the kitchen table?" complained John as he walked over to the fridge to get the milk out.

"Where else was I going to do it? Out on the landing? Yes I'm sure Mrs Hudson would just love that" pointed out Sherlock, he then looked up just as John was about to open the fridge "oh and we're out of milk".

"Of course we are" muttered John, he turned walked out of the room and grabbed his jacket and made sure his wallet was in his pocket. "Do we need anything else?" Sherlock took a breath and John knew this was when Sherlock would give him a long verbal list of things he would need for his experiments. "And by _need_ I mean _food_" stressed John.

Sherlock released his breath in the form of a sigh and replied dejectedly "no"

John smiled "just make sure you disinfect the table after you're done" and then he left the flat and when he reached the bottom of the stairs and came across Mrs Hudson trying to get through the front door with her shopping. John held the door open for Mrs Hudson before walking out onto the street.

"Oh you are a kind lad John! I will miss you when you've gone. Have the Army told you when you'll be leaving yet?" asked Mrs Hudson pausing in the doorway.

"I haven't heard anything yet Mrs Hudson, but I imagine it will be any day now" replied John. He was looking forward to getting the phone call which would tell him when he would be getting deployed to Afghanistan but he wasn't looking forward to leaving Sherlock behind. John had known Sherlock for a long time; they had met in Secondary School (John in Year 8 and Sherlock in Year 7) when John had stopped the boys from the football team beating Sherlock up. It had soon become clear to John that Sherlock had never had a friend before and endeavoured to look out for the younger boy, being on the rugby team gave John some power over the other students in his and Sherlock's Years and this ensured the other kids left Sherlock alone. Although John couldn't do much if Sherlock decided to deduce people from the older Year groups, on those occasions all John could do was help Sherlock run and hide. John's friends on the rugby team had tried to befriend Sherlock but Sherlock showed no desire or made any effort to befriend John's friends, so John's friends kept their distance but lended a helping hand if John and Sherlock ran into any trouble from the older Years. John was the only person Sherlock was interested in being friends with and when John had left Sixth Form and had gone on to University he had come home often to see Sherlock and when it was Sherlock's turn the following year to go University he followed John to the University of London Imperial College. And even at University John remained Sherlock's only friend; so to say John was dreading to tell Sherlock when he was leaving was an understatement. As Sherlock had even stopped talking to John for three days after John had told him he had joined the Army.

Mrs Hudson seemed to know what John was thinking and comfortingly said "don't worry about Sherlock I'll make sure he's fine and he's only worried about you John, you're his only friend" she then turned and shut the door.

John's smile then dropped off his face, "that's what I'm worried about" he murmured. Despite he will be going in as a Doctor there was still a risk he could be killed and he was worried that if that happened what would happen to Sherlock? John sighed and then decided instead of taking a cab he would walk to the nearest Tesco's.

####

John had gotten back to the flat half an hour ago and was up in his room and while he was tidying his stuff away his mobile phone had rung. He had finally been told when he was being deployed, he needed to go to the airport in eight days and from there he would be taking the long flight to Afghanistan. So now John was sat on his bed looking at his hands, he could hear Sherlock moving around the flat and knew he had to tell him because he couldn't just disappear for a year. Although it was tempting to see if Sherlock would actually notice he had been deployed. Surprisingly it was harder for John to tell Sherlock than it was to tell his family. So to delay telling Sherlock he picked up his mobile and called his parents, his mum and dad wished him well and said they would see him off at the airport next week. John then called his sister Harry who said like their parents she would see him off. In an attempt to further delay speaking to Sherlock John even called his grandparents who, like his parents, wished him well and told him to stay safe but they wouldn't be able to see him off. With all his phone calls done John sighed as he stood up knowing that now was the time to tell Sherlock.

He slowly walked down the stairs; with each step he took he wanted to retreat by ten steps. He walked into the living room to see Sherlock pulling books of the bookshelf looking for a particular book; Sherlock sensed John's arrival into the room.

"Ah John! Have you seen your medical journal I wanted to look up a particular disease" stated Sherlock,

"Er… no Sherlock sorry" replied John nervously, thankful that Sherlock seemed to distracted looking for the book instead of observing his current state of nervousness.

"No matter" replied Sherlock distractedly.

"Erm Sherlock I need to talk to you" started John,

"Not now John can't you see I'm busy?" retorted Sherlock.

"It's important" John tried to continue,

"Can't you tell me later?"

"No Sherlock" John would have loved to have told Sherlock later but knew he would just chicken out again.

"John-" Sherlock sharply began, annoyed at being disrupted.

"Sherlock just listen to me! It will only take a minute of your time"

"What is it then?" asked Sherlock pausing to turn and face John crossing his arms.

"I've just gotten a phone call"

"Oh how very interesting. Was that all?"

"No that's not all" snapped John, he took a breath and continued "I've gotten my orders; I'm getting deployed in eight days. I'm leaving for Afghanistan"

An uncomfortable silence took over the flat until Sherlock murmured "right, ok fine. Guess I'll see you in a year then" and then Sherlock began to leave the flat.

"I'm not leaving right now Sherlock!" called John, but all that answered him was the slamming of the front door.

John sighed and sank down onto the sofa with his head in his hands; he looked up hearing the flat door open and Mrs Hudson slowly entered.

At her questioning look John said "I told him I had just got my orders, I'm leaving in eight days"

She rested a hand on his shoulder, "don't worry he just needs to process what's happening, he'll be back soon" and then she left after making John a cup of tea.

But Sherlock didn't come back for hours, not until John had gone to bed. Sherlock spent the next eight days avoiding John. Soon the day John was leaving arrived and he descended the stairs from his room in his uniform and carrying his kit bag. He knew Sherlock was in his room as he had been for the past eight days. John stood outside Sherlock's room, "Sherlock?" There was no answer. Sighing John continued into the kitchen and placed a note for Sherlock on the kitchen table and then taking one more look around the flat feeling slightly choked up that he wouldn't be seeing the familiar flat for a year. With one more look at Sherlock's bedroom door he turned and left.

Mrs Hudson came to the door and hugged him goodbye, "don't you look smart and handsome in that uniform? Now you take care of yourself over there John Watson, you hear? Because I need my two boys together again. I'll be sure to send you cakes and don't forget to write. Stay safe" and with one more tight hug and brushing away her tears Mrs Hudson watched as John got into a cab and waved him goodbye. John turned in his seat and waved to Mrs Hudson and watched as his home faded from view.

####

Saying goodbye to his family was one of the most painful things John had ever done. His mum and sister were trying not to cry in front of him but failing and his dad's eyes were shinning with unshed tears.

"Take care of yourself son" said George Watson grasping John's arm tightly,

John nodded "I will dad, promise"

"Don't get yourself killed squirt otherwise I'll bring you back to life and kill you myself" sniffed Harry hugging John and using the old nickname she had for John when growing up.

"You got it Harry" laughed John.

John turned to his mum and held his arms out and Lucy Watson rushed into her son's embrace, "now I want you to write or email us at every chance you get alright? And just make sure you come back safe and sound" said Lucy kissing John's cheek before reluctantly stepping out of the embrace.

John was about to walk towards the gate when he caught sight of a familiar coat, "Sherlock!"

John dropped his kit bag and jogged the short distance over to Sherlock. "I didn't think you were going to come" he said.

"I wasn't" replied Sherlock looking down at his feet, "until I read your note"

"Sherlock, it'll be alright. I'll be coming back" promised John,

"You can't make that promise! You don't know what will happen!" argued Sherlock.

"Fine, I promise that I will try my hardest to come home" John promised. This seemed to satisfy Sherlock and uncharacteristically Sherlock surged forward and hugged John, "make sure you keep to that" he murmured.

"Don't worry I will" smiled John, he stepped back and nodded at Sherlock. He then turned, smiled and waved to his family and picked up his kit bag. With one more wave to his family and Sherlock he walked through the gate and in a way into the unknown.

####

It was four months into John's deployment when he was able to come home on leave for three weeks. He hadn't told Sherlock and Mrs Hudson because he had wanted to surprise them. It was early evening when he arrived and he had the cab stop at the end of the street and was beaming a wide smile as he walked down the familiar pavement of Baker Street. He nodded in greeting to neighbours he walked passed not allowing to be pulled into any conversations incase his best friend and landlady happened to step outside and see him walking down the street in his uniform. He quietly opened the front door and careful to avoid the squeaking stairs he made his way up to 221b. Before opening the door he heard the voices of Sherlock and Mrs Hudson and paused to hear what they were talking about.

"I had a letter from John this morning, it seems he's doing alright for himself over there" commented Mrs Hudson,

John smiled hearing the all too familiar noncommittal hum from Sherlock, deciding he couldn't wait any longer John pushed open the door and laughed at the shocked faces that greeted him.

"John?!" shrieked Mrs Hudson,

"Surprise!" chuckled John,

Mrs Hudson leapt forward and hugged John so tight he dropped his kit bad and found it hard to breathe. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?!" asked Mrs Hudson stepping back and looking John over to make sure he was in one piece.

"Where would the fun be in that?" asked John.

Mrs Hudson bent down and picked up his forgotten kit bag and said she would go and wash John's clothes for him, John tried to stop her but Mrs Hudson told him to just sit down and rest.

John sat in his armchair and looked across at Sherlock who had yet to say anything.

"You seem to be unharmed" commented Sherlock his eyes taking in every detail about his friend who he couldn't believe was sitting in front of him as if he hadn't been thousands of miles away in a war zone.

"Of course I am. Why would you say that?" questioned John.

"Something's different" replied Sherlock standing and looking down at John as if this new angle would give him the answers he was seeking.

"Well I haven't been on holiday Sherlock, I've been in a warzone so I'm not going to remain the same" replied John not looking Sherlock in the eye. He had been worried that Sherlock would notice the guilt he was feeling over the loss over the soldiers he couldn't save. He certainly didn't want Sherlock to notice how he was constantly haunted by the bullets, explosions, blood and screams. But Sherlock was Sherlock, and he noticed everything.

"You're feeling guilty" stated Sherlock, "but I don't know why you would be" he added.

"Maybe it's because you claim to be a sociopath" sniped John, he didn't want to lose his temper but he wanted to do everything he could to steer the conversation away from the dreadful memories.

"That maybe, but I still don't see why you would be feeling guilt over the deaths of soldiers" said Sherlock.

John drew in a shaky breath, he was finding it harder to push back the unwanted memories so did the only thing he could. He rose from his chair and bid Sherlock a hasty goodnight and went to his room. Feeling Sherlock's watchful eyes on his back.

That night John woke up screaming and drenched in sweat, shakily he rose from his bed and made his way to the bathroom and splashed cold water across his face.

"Nightmare" stated a voice behind him. Still with some of the fear of his nightmare remaining John spun around with his fist raised. But dropped it immediately seeing who the voice belonged to.

"Sherlock don't _do_ that!" exclaimed John.

"Do what?" asked Sherlock leaning against the doorframe.

"Sneak up on me like that!" snapped John,

"So I was right. A nightmare" stated Sherlock, his eyes narrowed.

"So?" shrugged John,

"In all your letters and emails to me and Mrs Hudson, and most likely not to your parents, not once have you mentioned anything that would explain the difference in you since you left and your nightmare. I'm just wondering why you wouldn't say anything" said Sherlock stepping closer to John, observing how John's eyes flickered across the room and never looked at anything for more than a second.

"Because I didn't want to worry any of you. You didn't need to know about the horrors I've seen" argued John, finally meeting Sherlock's gaze.

"If you keep it bottled up John it will destroy you!" claimed Sherlock, "if you don't want to tell your family or Mrs Hudson. Fine. But at the very least you tell me what is happening over there, because I'll only worry if you don't" and then Sherlock turned and walked back to the kitchen to finish whatever experiment he was working on. John was left in a stunned silence following Sherlock's uncharacteristic show of emotion. He then made his way back up to his room to try and get some more sleep.

Before John's leave came to an end he set up a Skype account for Sherlock so when they talked Sherlock would be able to observe and deduce what was happening with John. Without thinking John was keeping the sights he had seen hidden.

####

After three weeks they found themselves at the airport again, just standing in silence waiting for John's flight to get called. When it was Sherlock turned to John and said "remember what I said"

John smiled, "that's why I set up Skype accounts for us so you'd be able to do whatever it is you do and will be able to assure yourself I am telling you everything"

Sherlock nodded and watched as John walked towards the gate, before walking through the gate John turned back to Sherlock and nodded not knowing when he would be able to come home again.

####

It was a week later when during a conversation on Skype a young solider burst into John's quarters and exclaimed "Sir you're needed immediately there's too many wounded for the on call surgeons to deal with"

"Alright Corporal" replied John slipping into soldier mode, he turned to the computer screen "speak to you later Sherlock" and then he turned and sprinted after the Corporal. Forgetting to log off which allowed Sherlock to watch his best friend run out of the room and made John miss the whispered words spoken by Sherlock. "Stay safe John".

Ten hours later John stumbled into his quarters with exhaustion, he opened his emails and sent a short email to Sherlock.

_It was bad._

Almost immediately John got a call from Sherlock on Skype.

"John?" questioned Sherlock, looking at the defeated posture of John.

"So much blood Sherlock. They were all kids really" murmured John, looking at his friend on his computer screen.

"Did you lose anyone?" asked Sherlock, John shook his head. "But then it couldn't have too bad then could it?" added Sherlock.

"But I had to take a kids leg off, it was only yesterday I was speaking to him and found like me he loved playing rugby. Now he can't all because I couldn't save his damned leg" ranted John with his head in his hands.

"John, you need to get some sleep" Sherlock gently commented. Normally he didn't care about the state of mind of others. But this was John his best friend who was suffering, John was the exception. Years ago when all anybody cared about was beating him up John had come along and helped him, and if Sherlock was honest with himself John had continued to help him ever since. So it was only fair that Sherlock started to repay John for all he had done.

"I'll be lucky if I can sleep for ten minutes" replied John defeated rubbing his eyes and looking back at Sherlock.

"Just try" prompted Sherlock; John nodded and murmured a goodnight before logging off. Sherlock continued to stare at his now blank computer screen. Sighing he stood up and looked around the flat, nothing caught his interest. He thought after John being deployed for four months he would have grown used to the silence that had taken over, but just as he had adjusted John had returned. And now he was gone again. Sherlock hated this feeling of hopelessness and couldn't wait until John's return when everything could continue on as normal.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the course of John's deployment he and Sherlock kept up regular conversations on Skype. John telling Sherlock about everything that was happening and Sherlock telling John about the cases he was working on with a Detective Inspector from New Scotland Yard. With a couple of leaves during the remainder of John's deployments it was soon time for him to return home.

John's family insisted on throwing him a welcome home party at a local pub where friends and family could see John and welcome him home themselves. Sherlock was the only one who saw how uncomfortable the whole affair was making John feel.

"You ok?" asked Sherlock handing John a pint of beer.

"Fine. Faced worse than this" replied John shrugging. This answer did anything but reassure Sherlock his best friend was fine.

But this was the reply John had to all the questions Sherlock asked him about how he was feeling, even when walking down Baker Street and a car backfired. Which caused John to crouch lower to the ground and for his eyes to dart in every direction searching for danger before realizing he was safe back home in London.

Sherlock worried about the way in which John was seemingly not easing back into civilian life comfortably and so got him involved in the cases he was working. Lestrade befriended John and helped Sherlock in helping John to adjust to being home, and it was slowly working. Until one day the idiot Anderson was decided to open his mouth and ask hundreds of questions to John about his deployment. And being as stupid as he was, he even went as far as asking about all the deaths John must have witnessed. Even Anderson's usual ally Sally Donovan reprimanded him for asking John such questions. Sherlock would have punched Anderson had he not been distracted by John who had gone white as a sheet and seemed to be locked in the memories of the horrible sights he had seen. John had been home for eight months at this point and had backtracked significantly and not even going to the pub with Lestrade or watching as Sherlock insulted Anderson's intelligence eased John's constant state of tension. Until one day John began making progress again, and this delighted Sherlock, the only ones who witnessed the seemingly human emotions displayed by Sherlock were Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. But then Sherlock learned the reason for the change in John's behaviour.

It was a month after the incident with Anderson they were in their flat and Sherlock was talking to John about how he had solved the case, despite knowing John had been present throughout the whole case.

"Sherlock" began John sipping his tea.

"Hmm?" hummed Sherlock plucking at his violin.

"I'm going back" said John looking straight at Sherlock.

"Going back where?" questioned Sherlock putting his violin to one side.

"Afghanistan" replied John not breaking eye contact with Sherlock.

"What?" exclaimed Sherlock wide eyed.

"I'm getting deployed again in two weeks" John said quietly,

"But you can't!" argued Sherlock standing up "you've been a nervous wreck since you've gotten home!" John flinched at these words but either Sherlock didn't notice or he chose to ignore it. "And as you've been so jumpy why would the Army take you back?"

"Technically I never left the Army" John pointed out.

"You can't go back!" shouted Sherlock,

"I can! And I am! It's the only place I feel alive!" yelled John rising from his armchair, "it's the only place where I feel useful and it's where I can help and make a difference!"

"Oh yes go back to the place that haunts your every moment! And go back to the place that makes you wake up every night screaming!" snarked Sherlock, his eyes glaring at John daring him to deny what has been happening.

"It doesn't happen there! Here I feel useless and there I'm useful!" retorted John squaring up to Sherlock.

"I've had you helping on cases" Sherlock indignantly replied.

"Oh yes that makes me feel _so_ useful having you insult any ideas I put forward" snapped John,

"Well you are an idiot if you go back" threatened Sherlock,

"Guess I'm an idiot then" responded John quietly. He then turned and walked up stairs to his room.

Much like the time before his first deployment John did not see Sherlock at all. Soon it was time for John to leave again; he walked past Sherlock's door not calling out to him and this time not leaving a note. He walked down the stairs and hesitated, Mrs Hudson was talking with Sherlock on the pavement. John sucked in a breath and hoisted his kit bag onto his shoulder he walked down the remaining steps and out the door not really looking at Mrs Hudson or Sherlock.

"John, please be careful" whispered Mrs Hudson has she hugged John.

John let his kit bag hit the floor and returned the hug fiercely, "you know me. I'm always careful. Besides time will soon fly by and I'll be back before you know it"

"For good?" asked Mrs Hudson hopefully, before John could reply he heard a snort and looked up to see Sherlock shaking his head as he walked away.

"I don't know" murmured John looking at his feet, "I like it, and it makes me feel like I'm making a difference. But all I seem to be achieving is upsetting the people that mean the most to me"

"Now you listen to me LieutenantJohn Watson" commanded Mrs Hudson making John look up at her, "never mind how your friends and family feel you do what _you_ want. We all accept this is a part of you now"

"All accept Sherlock"

"Well you leave him to me. I'll make sure he sees sense", John smiled at the lady who had become like a favourite aunt to him and kissed her on the cheek and got in the cab.

No one was at the airport this time to see him off, sighing John walked towards the gate and stopped to turn and look around in the hopes he would see a family member or a friend come running apologizing about being help up in the London traffic. But no one was there. John hung his head and then walked through the gate.

####

Three months into his deployment John was home again, but not for a good reason. He was home on compassionate leave. His grandfather had died. His grandfather was in hospital and wasn't expected to live much longer so John had been on the first plane home. But it didn't get him home fast enough. John had run into the hospital to find his dad waiting for him, George had told John how his grandfather had been so proud of him and that he understood John was travelling thousands of miles to get home. That didn't make John feel any better, he had always been close to his grandfather, but he plastered a smile on his face for his family's sake. His dad phoned Mrs Hudson to tell her John was home but not for happy reasons. So at late at night John made his way to 221b Baker Street, still in his crumpled uniform with a look of despair. He slowly climbed the stairs and entered the flat. Mrs Hudson hugged him and offered her condolences, but John had heard enough of them. He gently brushed Mrs Hudson aside and not wanting to get into an argument with Sherlock he just walked up to his room and sat on his bed staring at his hands.

There was a knock at his door, but John didn't acknowledge it.

"John?" said Sherlock as he entered the room. But John still didn't respond, Sherlock slowly made his way over to the bed and sat down beside John. He waited in silence understanding that John may not want to talk right now.

"When my CO called me into his office I wasn't expecting to be told my granddad was dying. They put me on the first plane home and when I got to the airport and no one was there. I knew something was wrong" John sucked in a breath trying to keep tears at bay "then I got to the hospital dad was waiting for me and he told me granddad died fifteen minutes before. All the way home I had been thinking what I was going to say to granddad and I was fifteen minutes too _late_!" sobbed John losing the battle against his emotions.

Sherlock placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I'm sorry John. And not just for your granddad"

John looked up at Sherlock "what do you mean?"

"I'm sorry about the way I acted when you told me you were leaving again" Sherlock softly said. Sherlock remembered the conversation Mrs Hudson had with him two hours after John had left.

"_Why did you walk away like that when John was leaving?" demanded Mrs Hudson, this was one of those rare occasions when she was angry Sherlock realized._

"_He didn't seem to appreciate my views on him going back there. So I thought to avoid an argument I would leave" replied Sherlock leaning back in his arm chair._

_Mrs Hudson sighed and looked down at the photo she was holding, "I hate seeing you two fight like this"_

"_Well he started it by deciding to go back to a warzone when I had been trying to help him adjust to being home. Obviously he doesn't want to be home" snarked Sherlock._

"_How would you feel Sherlock if you were suddenly removed from helping on cases?" asked Mrs Hudson,_

"_That is beside the point!" argued Sherlock,_

"_No it isn't" commented Mrs Hudson, "for John helping out there as a Doctor is how you feel about solving cases Sherlock. You feel bored when there are no cases, for John he feels useless not being out there helping"_

"_He made that quite clear" murmured Sherlock. Mrs Hudson walked over and placed the photo in Sherlock's lap, it was of John and Sherlock standing shoulder to shoulder laughing on John's birthday four years ago._

"_By walking away you may have avoided an argument but you also made John leave thinking that by doing something he loves, he is pushing away his family and friends. Don't let him continue thinking that Sherlock, not when he's out there in all that danger. He needs to know his family and friends are supporting him every step of the way" Mrs Hudson had patted Sherlock's shoulder and then walked back to her own flat leaving Sherlock staring at the photo._

Through his tears John chuckled, "I'm sorry about the things I said then too"

Sherlock shook his head, "no you shouldn't be. I was the one who started the whole argument and the one who made you feel like you were pushing away those closest to you"

"How? Oh Mrs Hudson talked to you then" smiled John.

"Yes. Two hours after you left actually, and I wanted to email or Skype you to tell you how sorry I was. But I felt it would have been better to say it face to face. Remember this John, no matter what happens or whatever I say, you will always be my best friend" smiled Sherlock.

"Thanks Sherlock" choked John. They then sat there in a comfortable silence when exhausted by all that he had been through in the last twenty four hours John's eyes slipped close and he slumped onto Sherlock fast asleep. Sherlock smiled and gently laid John down on his bed and removed his shoes before grabbing a blanket and gently placing it over John.

The funeral for John's granddad was two days later, John was in uniform with his medals on show which prompted the people gathered to feel the need to come and speak to him. John was in a daze and just nodded his head and gave small smiles when needed; no one noticed he wasn't paying attention. All except Sherlock. Much like when John had returned home the first time and was at the pub Sherlock remained by his side and moved people along when he could sense John was getting restless and tried with people asking what unit he was serving with, how many tours had he done and how many soldiers he must have saved with his skills. Sherlock could sense that the last one rattled John; John never liked being reminded of how many he must have saved because for John that always reminded him of the ones he couldn't save.

Three days after the funeral John had to go back to Afghanistan. Sherlock was the only one who went to the airport to see him off.

"Just stay safe ok?" said Sherlock looking at his friend.

"I will, remember to email me about the cases you've solved. It's always great hearing about them" replied John,

"I'll tell you about those on Skype, it's hard to write my deductions down" John nodded and his head turned towards the gate when he heard his flight being called, he watched as other soldiers were saying goodbye to their families.

"See you in a few months then" said John turning to look back at Sherlock,

"Take care _Captain_ Watson" smiled Sherlock, addressing John by the new rank he had received three weeks before returning home. John smiled in return and then walked over to the gate.

####

Five months later John was out on patrol when a sudden burst of gunfire caused some of the soldiers in front of him to drop to the floor. John surged forward toward the nearest soldier and let the other medics deal with the other injured. John pulled his medic bag to his front and began patching up one of his good friends.

"Max look at me! You're gonna be fine you hear me? Just keep looking at me!" ordered John as he worked with fast and nimble hands as he wrapped a pressure bandage around Max's leg.

"J…John…" stuttered Max gasping through the pain.

"I know it hurts buddy but you just have to hold on a minute. I'm almost done" soothed John, and then he snapped his head up and yelled at anyone with free hands "somebody better have radioed for a helicopter to get these guys out of here!"

John's orders were met with "already on its way Sir!"

Another burst of rapid gunfire had John leaning over Max to try and protect him from further injury. That was when John felt a searing pain in his left shoulder; he realized he must have been shot as the force from the bullet knocked him backwards onto his back. He pulled himself up ignoring the fiery pain to make sure Max hadn't sustained any more injuries. That's when he saw the blood on Max, there was more than there should have been after he had put the pressure bandage on Max's leg. John's eyes worked up from Max's leg to his face and that's when he saw Max's lifeless eyes staring back up at him. With a shaky hand John felt for Max's pulse to feel none. With the blood loss and the shock of Max's death John slumped to the ground, he felt hands pressing into his wound.

"Argh!" John cried out as he writhed in pain.

"It's ok John I got you. I got you. You just have to stay with me ok?" John darted his eyes around until he recognised the owner of the voice. It belonged to another friend Bill Murray. John's eyes began to flicker shut and the overwhelming darkness dulled the pain and John began to welcome it until Bill gently shook him saying "come on John don't give up! Keep your eyes open! Come on John! You're not gonna die on me, no way am I letting you! Remember you were telling me about the cases your friend Sherlock has been working on; come on buddy you have to pull through so you can help him on those cases!"

John's eyes widened for a moment and he honestly tried to keep his eyes open, but the bright blue sky above him was fading away. "Sor…sorry" whispered John as his eyes slid shut.

"John!" called Bill, Bill's voice also sounded like Sherlock's and John tried to reopen his eyes but they just wouldn't. _Please, dear God let me live_ and then everything just faded away.

####

Sherlock was sat in a chair at John's bedside. John had been shot three days ago and was still unconscious, every now and then he would he would mutter something but Sherlock never caught what it was. John began shifting around and his face contorted as if he was in pain. But Sherlock knew this was John having a nightmare.

He edged forward in his chair and whispered, "It's alright John. You're home. You're safe"

John moved his head from side to side and began muttering again, this time Sherlock heard him say "Max!" Once Sherlock saw John had settled down he lent back in his chair and wondered who this Max was. But he would have to wait for John to wake up until he would be able to learn about Max.

####

John's eyes flickered open and he looked up to see a white ceiling, he slowly turned his head to his left and saw his shoulder wrapped thickly in bandages. He then turned his head to the right and saw Sherlock sat beside him looking at him.

"Sherlock?" asked John in a hoarse voice.

Sherlock lent closer, "yes it is me John"

"Hospital. Where?" coughed John trying to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his throat.

"You're back in London" replied Sherlock.

For a moment John was confused, why was he back in London, in a hospital and why was his shoulder wrapped in bandage? Then it all came rushing back. The dessert, the bullets, the blood and Max.

"So I'm not dead?" questioned John. This seemed to be the wrong thing to say because Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he lent back in his chair.

"I would think that was obvious" retorted Sherlock.

"Sorry, but it's all confusing thinking about what happened" replied John staring at the wall,

Sherlock's eyes softened, "sorry, it's…I was so worried when your dad called me to say you had been wounded"

"If dad called where is he?" asked John looking around his room.

"He managed to convince your mum to go to the hotel their staying at to get some rest" replied Sherlock. John nodded feeling guilty about what his parents must have been going through. "There's no need to feel guilty about your parents John"

"I'm not going to even ask how you figured that out" smiled John, but Sherlock noticed the smile didn't reach John's eyes.

"John? What's wrong?" asked Sherlock leaning closer again. He watched as John tried to put a mask in place of his normally expressive face.

"Just thinking" murmured John, not meeting Sherlock's intense gaze.

"About?" prompted Sherlock.

"A…a…friend" whispered John in the hopes Sherlock wouldn't notice the pain in his voice.

"Was your friend called Max?" John nodded, "was he injured as well?" John didn't respond and Sherlock sensed John didn't want to talk about Max just yet. "Get some rest John" insisted Sherlock. John's eyes flickered to Sherlock and then he nodded and let his eyes drift shut and allowed sleep to overcome him.

####

Three weeks later Sherlock was helping John up the stairs to their flat. When John had been allowed out of bed at the hospital Sherlock had been confused when he noticed John limping but sensing it was a topic John didn't want to talk about Sherlock didn't say anything. As they entered the flat neither of them were surprised to see Mrs Hudson already there waiting with two cups of tea.

"Oh John you poor thing!" cried Mrs Hudson as she gently hugged John and led him over to his arm chair. "Now you just sit down and make yourself comfortable"

"Mrs Hudson I'm fine" comforted John patting her hand. He hated having Mrs Hudson fuss him and seeing the same look in her eye as his mum.

Mrs Hudson nodded and kissed his cheek before taking her leave. Sherlock came and sat opposite him.

"John are you sure you're alright?" questioned Sherlock,

"Yes I am" replied John, but at Sherlock's dubious look he added "or at least I will be". This answer seemed to satisfy Sherlock and Sherlock felt comforted by the fact that he knew John was alright and would not be returning to any war zones anytime soon, or if at all. He knew John wouldn't be pleased about this but Sherlock vowed to make sure John felt useful on cases because he didn't want to lose his only and best friend.

**A/N **I may write other stories that are sequels of sort from this one, but we'll see.


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